If and when, one is invited to some body’s place for evening drinks/dinner, there are some courtesies that I have observed over time and appreciated. Just listing a few of them.

Be on time.

If getting late, call and let the hosts know.

Be polite.

Engage in small conversation, no matter how tired you are.

If allergic/ or dislike some thing, do inform the hosts well in advance.

In a small personal dinner, make sure you have tried a little bit of everything.

If visiting a person’s place for the first time take your hostess a little gift.

Keep your phone switched off. Unless you know your’s or some one else’s life is dependant on it.

Compliment the hostess on the drinks/food, anything that you can find positive to say about.

Leave the option of another meeting open.

Thank the hosts for having you over.

I have more to talk with a person I speak to regularly like 2 times a week or even weekly,but I am at a complete loss of words when catching up with some one after 3 months.

This quote was all a person wrote on his about me section on a social networking site.

I was amused San: then why post such a quote?, and hence I put it up on my blog.

Was this person telling himself everything will be alright and he can get a hold of his life.Was he indulging in self pity.Was he keen to get the sympathy.Will I ever be able to empathise with a person who can only tell me that he has hit rock bottom.

LazyLeo: may be you haven’t reached rock bottom coz you’re already drifting upward?

Matter of perception, we all have blips, but that doesn’t mean we are defeated.Defeat is a mental condition not a physical one.Who knows some times what looks like the worst thing to happen to you, might actually be a boon.Feel free to call it a defence mechanism.In the end each to his own.

Greensatya: So if there is a mess, make it more messy till it can’t be messed anymore. When something is at top, the only way further is to come down

So should I actually be self destructive so I can ensure success?

Arz000n:true no one wants to be at the rocky bottom anyway

I agree no one wants to be at rock bottom.I also believe that some times life does get really tough.But then that is the challenge right.Why put up your arms.I think the biggest loser is the one who feels defeated not the one who is still fighting.

Rohit: Oh you haven’t? So, you wanna? :O

Like I said, it is a matter of perception.I don’t think I have.Then again, I have my own measures of success. Some body with a different measure might find my life a total waste of carbon on balance.Who is to tell? Who is to know. No I don’t think I want to ever get to the point where I don’t have a plan B. As long as there is plan B, I think I can walk with my head high.

Nick:I have always wondered about that quote. How does one know its “rock” bottom? What if the “bottom” is made of quicksand? I remember what Ian Farina wrote: “I’ve been down so long it seems like up to me.

Exactly my thought.When does one know they have hit rock bottom.What defines rock bottom.Does one ever feel so helpless.Does there actually come a point in life when you think you can no longer keep going.Isn’t that giving up? Do we ever give up? Do we have that liberty?Don’t we constantly struggle, don’t we constantly fight?

Gaizabonts: Don’t know if your found the context you were looking for yet, and Karuna Hi, keep rambling I say.

The only place to go after you hit rock bottom is up.

Sounds dandy.But I haven’t hit rock bottom yet.

*Gulp*

You were mine
or so I thought.
You own me instead
To know, I ought.

You glisten my eyes
Soften my face
In the hardest of times
Bring in solace.

A single emotion
Is all it takes.
To hold you back
Every effort I make.

Inspite of me
You have your way.
Ever so often
Giving me away.

Sometimes a friend
Sometimes a foe.
But on my side, always
Understanding my woes.

You have been with me,
Unfailingly.Time I told you.
You are very dear.
All of mine, my every tear.

I was visiting Delhi after a long time.Or so the calculations said.I had not met my family for so long.It felt weird.I have been in touch with everyone.It isn’t the same as actually seeing them.Fine lines on the face, wisdom of the ages shining through the eyes, weight lost to illness and smiles lost to circumstances told me it had been way too long.The warm hugs,night long chatter and lots of love saved the moment, but will never make up for lost time.

The aura of Delhi hasn’t changed a bit.Instead the orange sun shone even brighter this Sunday.With India Gate at the backdrop, the view was breathtaking.I was on my way to an exam.The result is immaterial.The act was motivational.The roads beckoning.The mood inspirational.I have long lost the charm in the battle of Mumbai vs Delhi.I am proud to be from a country where landscape language and history changes every 200 kms.* Delhi is rich in each.It has it’s own story.It has it’s own character.

I did meet Mrs Mfmil.I don’t know what she made of me in person, yet.I suspect I have already created an impression on her.She was nice.Realxed.Jovial.She did not once make me feel uncomfortable,like I had suspected.Instead true to Delhi hospitality the high tea was spectacular.

Discussing politics and everything that is wrong with my country is always high on the agenda when one visits Delhi.I love the long debates heated arguments and several hundred solutions to all of mankind’s problems.Unfortunately no one was listening.I think it comes with the territory of being from the capital.The residents think they know it all.I suspect they do.

I am always amazed at the aggression that one comes across in that city.Be it on the road or out of it.My dad explains that the residents of Delhi are originally refugees and had to fight for everything.Well what happened 50 years ago is no excuse to behave badly a generation or two later but may be I am no one to comment.May be my views can be worth another post altogether.

Met lots of doctors, and loved it.Reminded myself that I belong to a benevolent fraternity and I belong to that generation which shoulders the responsibity to keep it like that.The plight of doctors world over didn’t go undiscussed.Their stories lessen my own misery. After all misery loves company.

But what makes me like Delhi the most, it makes me fall in love with Mumbai all over again.I am happy to be home, away from the dust, the maddening traffic, loud voices, unsolicited solutions,bad phone lines and lack of electricity.Don’t get me wrong I do like Delhi,but I am a Mumbai girl after all.

*Borrowed from a comment by Atul Sabnis

I am still going through the Waiter’s archives.I have only 11 more months to catch up with.Will some one please tell me what he means by yuppies.I do have an idea though.

What is gnawing at the back of my head is that there is a tag I need to do.I had promised to deliver it today. Why today? Oh well read the title again will ya, and do visit that link I provided.

It is a great feeling.Another milestone.118 posts, 14190 hits.It has been a good year.

In Atul’s words,“it has to be about your blogging experience, link us to what you believe are some of your best posts - tell us (at least now) why they are important to you - what you like about them. Keep it as free form as a possible - tell us a story. Tell us what blogging has meant to you, notwithstanding the opinion of the media (or anyone else).

Then, more importantly, do this tag as an introspection - not as a chore - do it because (and if you believe in blogging) - the experience that it has meant to you.”

This blog is my universe and I am at the centre of that universe.My feelings my thoughts my emotions my life.All on a page poured out over this 17 inch confession window.

Blogging is a means of communication to me.It is here that I talk to myself.I satisfy my need to be heard.Feed my ego.Face the truth.Some times hide from it.

I am humbled.There are so many fantastic bloggers out there. Awesome write-ups,beautiful poetry, amazing photographs. There are people who dedicate sometime each day to painstakingly put in the net some piece of useful information.I am amazed at their conviction, their commitment.So many beautiful thoughts, so many that are necessary and so many that we can only dream of.They show us that the possibility is endless.

In this universe where I is so important to me I am often reminded how really small I am.How much there is to this world.How really miniscule this I is in the larger scale of things.I am humbled no doubt, but I am also motivated.I know I am not alone.

Each post that I have posted has an emotion behind it.A reason.A wish.A hope.What that might be, is probably constantly changing but there is not a post without purpose.Did I do justice to any of it, I don’t know.But is there any one emotion or moment that I lived more important than the other, I don’t think so.

In today’s world of political correctness,contacts over friends, where words became
weapons, silences war zones, animosity the name of the game, solitude a committed companion, this blog has provided the comfort of a nonjudgemental platform where I can be heard.It doesn’t matter who is listening, or how many.What matters is that I found my chance.

You ask me what my blog means to me.What can I say it has been a friend a mentor a guide to me.

I don’t know how many of you do this.I kind of always do it.You come across a blog and you like it.Become a regular there and then you like it so much that you want to read every word that blogger has ever written.

My current find is Waiter Rant. He needs no introduction to a lot of you, but those of you who have never read him, I suggest you do so some time.

My parents are hosting a lunch for some of my dad’s friends this coming weekend and that same very day we would actually be in a different city having dinner with some of my dad’s other friends.

For the tiny bit of effort on my dad’s part he sent out emails to all his friends for confirmations and maps and so on.

I answered Mrs Mfmil’s call yesterday afternoon aassuming she was my dad’s friend or a friend’s wife. I was more than warm affectionate and lovely to talk to.So she said.

We discussed my stay in England, my future plans.Whether I was liking home after all these years away from it.What were my career pursuits.The problems Indians face abroad.Visa issues, training issues.How should one plan their medical careers and what have you.

We also discussed why youngsters find it hard to come back and live with their parents and what kind of understanding the parents should show so the child doesn’t feel claustrophobic.The mixed culture.The confusions.

The new age aggressive Indian women, their economic independance and changing expectations from life. My views on arranged marriages.

I can still go on.In short we had a lovely afternoon chat which lasted around 50 minutes at the end of which she asked me if I would like to meet them.

Of course I said emphatically.I confirmed whether it would be lunch or dinner.She politely refused the invitations but was game to meet my parents and me the next day for brunch.The prospect of good north Indian food and I didn’t want to say no.

Only when I gave Mrs Mfmil’s message to my parents did I realise that she had responded to my father’s email which he had sent in response to the advertisement that Mrs Mfmil had put in for their son in the Sunday matrimonials column.Oh by the way..Mrs Mfmil=my future mother in law.*gulp*

I might just about come back married this weekend.See what assumptions can do to you.

I’ve spent many evenings here, just musing and thinking.I miss the calm I have felt in the bustle of London city.

I seem to have a mental block when it comes to uploading photos on my blog.I’ve been wanting to for the longest time.So here is my first.